The morning air in Noryangjin-dong was crisp, the gray clouds from yesterday's looming storm having parted to reveal a pale, hesitant sun. Jang Taesan walked to school, his frayed backpack slung over one shoulder, the bruise on his shoulder from Min-soo Kang's alley tackle throbbing with each step. It was his fifteenth day back in 2008, and the fire of his second chance burned brighter than ever, fueled by the coins in his pocket, the strength growing in his body, and the future knowledge etched in his mind. But yesterday's clash—the storm that broke with Min-soo's retreat and Sophie Leclerc's timely intervention—had left ripples. The school was buzzing with rumors, and Taesan could feel the weight of new eyes on him, some curious, some wary.
The courtyard was a chaotic swirl of students—some cramming for quizzes, others whispering over yesterday's drama, their early-model flip phones flashing as they traded gossip. Taesan's senses were on edge, scanning for Min-soo or his cronies. The bully's public humiliation, thanks to Sophie's sharp tongue and the crowd's presence, had bought Taesan a moment's peace, but he knew it wouldn't last. Sophie's warning—"You're hiding something big"—echoed in his mind, her scrutiny a puzzle he wasn't ready to solve. His plan—acing the CSAT, building an empire from market foresight, forging alliances with Han Do-jin and Noah Park—was taking shape, but every step forward stirred the waters, drawing attention he couldn't always control.
In math class, Taesan tackled a set of trigonometric identities with a precision that left Mr. Lim shaking his head in quiet awe. "Jang, you're rewriting the gradebook," he said, half-joking, as he collected Taesan's paper. Whispers rippled through the room, and Sophie, seated near the front, shot him a glance—her eyes sharp, her pencil pausing mid-note. Her curiosity was relentless, and Taesan felt the weight of it like a spotlight. He was rewriting his reputation, but the cost was visibility, and with it, new risks.
At lunch, the cafeteria thrummed with its usual chaos—students shouting over trays of bibimbap, the air thick with the scent of gochujang and sesame oil. Taesan sat alone, his notebook open to a new page: a plan to expand his tutoring gigs and market work into a steady income stream. The 10,000 won from Ji-woo's math session was a start, but he needed more to capitalize on the 2008 market crash and the recovery that would follow. He was jotting down names of potential students when Han Do-jin slid into the seat across from him, his tie a mess, a stolen piece of Taesan's kimbap in his hand.
"Yo, Taesan, you're the talk of the school," Do-jin said, grinning as he chewed. "Min-soo getting shut down by Leclerc? Legendary. You're, like, a hero now."
Taesan closed his notebook, forcing a smirk. "Not a hero, man. Just done taking crap." The sight of Do-jin, alive and oblivious to the car crash that loomed in his future, was a bittersweet ache. Taesan couldn't tell him about the time-travel, the markets, or the vow to save him. Not yet.
Do-jin leaned forward, his grin fading. "For real, though, you okay? That alley thing sounded intense. Min-soo's not gonna let it slide forever."
Taesan's jaw tightened, the bruise on his shoulder pulsing. "Let him try," he said, his voice low but firm. "I'm not the same guy he used to push around."
Do-jin nodded, his worry easing into admiration. "Yeah, I can see that. You're, like, scary intense now. Just… watch your back, okay? I don't want to visit you in the hospital."
Taesan clapped his shoulder, the weight of his friend's concern grounding him. "I'll be fine, Do-jin. Stick around, and maybe we'll both come out on top."
Do-jin laughed, tossing a napkin at him. "Deal. But you're buying the ramen when we're rich."
After school, Taesan headed to a small PC bang near the market, where he'd agreed to help the owner with basic tech support for extra cash. The cramped space buzzed with the click of keyboards and the hum of outdated monitors, the air thick with cigarette smoke and instant noodle broth. Taesan fixed a lagging computer, his hands steady as he applied skills from his past life's odd jobs. The owner, a gruff man with a buzzcut, tossed him 15,000 won with a nod. "Good work, kid. Come back tomorrow."
Taesan pocketed the cash, the small victory fueling his resolve. Every won was a step toward his savings account, toward the empire he'd build on the ashes of the 2008 crash. But as he left the PC bang, he caught sight of Min-soo's cronies—Ji-hoon and Dong-min—lurking across the street, their eyes tracking him. No Min-soo, but their presence was a warning, a reminder that the storm wasn't over.
At Choi's Taekwondo & Hapkido Academy that evening, Taesan channeled his unease into training, the dojang's thwack of kicks and shouts of effort a release for his tension. Master Choi's voice boomed as Taesan practiced a taekwondo roundhouse kick, his form sharper, the movement flowing from his core. "Jang! Good! Now add power!" Choi barked, his stern face betraying a flicker of pride.
Across the mat, Noah Park worked through a hapkido wrist lock, his lanky frame steadier, his focus intense. Taesan caught his eye, offering a nod, and Noah returned it, their bond growing stronger with each session. Taesan's mind flashed to Noah's future—a tech titan who'd reshape industries. He's not there yet, but he's mine to guide.
Choi paired Taesan with Hye-jun for sparring, the wiry senior grinning as they squared off. "Heard about your alley stunt, Jang," Hye-jun teased, lunging with a quick jab. "Got some guts."
Taesan blocked, his reflexes honed by days of drills, and countered with a side kick that caught Hye-jun's thigh, earning a surprised grunt. "Guts and a plan," Taesan said, a spark of confidence in his voice. The spar continued, each move a testament to his growing strength, though the bruise on his shoulder ached with every block.
As the session ended, Noah approached, wiping his brow. "Heard about Min-soo," he said, his shy smile tinged with awe. "You really stood up to him. That's… crazy."
Taesan grinned, slinging his towel over his shoulder. "Just doing what I have to, Noah. You're getting tougher too. Keep it up."
Noah's eyes lit up, a flicker of confidence breaking through. "Thanks, man. Feels good to have someone who gets it."
Choi's voice cut through. "Jang! Park! Save the bonding for after class!" They bowed, sharing a quick laugh, and Taesan felt the pieces of his plan solidifying—Do-jin's trust, Noah's potential, Choi's guidance, the cash in his pocket.
Walking home under Noryangjin's neon glow, the stars faint against the city's electric haze, Taesan felt the aftermath of the storm settling. Min-soo's cronies, Sophie's scrutiny, the mystery of his return—they were challenges he'd face head-on. The coins in his pocket, the strength in his body, the alliances he was forging—they were the foundation of something unstoppable.
He clenched his fists, his lips curling into a determined grin. The storm broke, and I'm still here. Now I'm ready for the next one.